Erik's Promise
by Evening Starbossa
Summary: Dream-based. When someone is practically thrown onto Erik's doorstep, can he learn to love her, or will he decide instead that Christine is his one and only love? Rated T for subject matter. Erik/OC
1. Cerise's Fire

_**A/N: Here I go, once again posting yet another story while my unfinished stories gather dust. *sighs* I am so sorry for those of you waiting for updates…my imagination is just not cooperating! Anyway…this story is a first for me, in that it is completely 100% based on a dream I've had several times. Due to it being a dream, there are times when someone might seem OOC or extremely over-the-top. Also, there were some times when the dream skipped around, and so I had to try to fill-in those spots. And you will definitely see when those spots come. I warn you, this story is going to seem weird, rushed, and jumpy, but I am trying to get as much of the dream in it as possible. Thank you for understanding! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters(although I've written enough of these that it certainly feels like it at times…)**_

** Fighting back the **remainder of his tears, he looked once more down the dark passageway behind him. Several days had passed since the mobs invasion into his lair, but even if they were gone by now, he had no intension of returning to those painful memories or the vast emptiness Christine had left behind. It was time to move on from the opera house that had been his home for twenty-five years. Perhaps he would find music elsewhere. Perhaps there was no music left.

His eyes well adjusted to the darkness, he found the ladder he had built long ago for this very purpose, long forgotten until now. As he climbed, he forced himself to think about a plan, rather than her. By the time he reached the trap door above him, however, the only plan he'd managed was to hide. _But where?_

Cursing his thoughts, he pushed up on the trap door, leading to an alleyway. Cautiously looking around before fully opening the door and climbing out, he immediately focused on a bit of a scuffle about ten or fifteen feet away from the crate he was lifting. Three men gave several kicks to what appeared to be a large sack of potatoes. As they moved around it, however, he saw the unmistakable head of long, brown hair. _Christine…_ Fury boiled up inside him, and he flew out of the tunnel. He had no knowledge of what he did, exactly, but by the time the red before his eyes faded, the men had scattered, and he was holding a plank of wood in his hand, the far end of it spotted with blood. He turned around (_Did I run past her?_) to go back to her side, but someone had beaten him to it. Her hair was blond, very much like Meg Giry's, tied back in a loose, tangled bun. As Erik approached them, he could see that it was not Christine he had rescued, but a girl much smaller, yet a bit older. "She's not for sale!" Erik jumped ever so slightly and looked over at her companion, who was now glaring at him through fiery brown eyes. She clutched her friend's bruised head in her lap defensively, and Erik softened.

"I have no interest in buying her services." He stepped closer, but she clutched her friend tighter.

"She's not for free, either." Her back was straight, and even though she was deeply concerned for her friend's welfare, her eyes showed no sign of watering. Her face was painted with makeup, but he could still see signs of old scarring beneath it. She wore a pink dress full of frills and lace, but her matching high heeled shoes had been kicked off to the side.

"What's your name?" He knelt down so as to look less threatening, but the fire in her eyes did not dim.

"Cerise, if it matters. Look, if you're going to take someone, take me. Not her."

"I'm not going to take anyone, Cerise. I mean only to help, not harm." He met her gaze evenly, and he thought he saw her lower lip quiver ever so slightly. The fire dimmed then, leaving a trace of longing before she lowered her gaze to her friend.

"She was only with us for less than a year. I don't know where she came from, but he brought her in, made us train her. It was against the rules for this to happen…it wasn't like she meant for it to happen…but it did…I tried to help her hide it, but he found out…" It was only then that he noticed the girl's enlarged belly, and as Cerise gently caressed it, the girl's face twisted into a momentary grimace. "None of this was her fault, Monsieur. She knew nothing of this business when she came…that much was clear her first day. She didn't ask for this…she didn't want any of this…" Erik watched Cerise's eyes water ever so slightly, and he wondered if her words were about herself as well as her friend.

"What's her name?"

"Alyce." Erik gently took the victim in his arms, Cerise loosening her grip. He turned her over onto her back, immediately noticing deep red slashes across the left side of her face. "He did that so that no man would ever want to touch her again." Cerise explained angrily. Erik felt his own anger rise up again, but he kept it inside for Alyce's sake. Bruises and dirt covered the rest of her face and neck, and he knew there were more under her torn blue dress. Blood trickled onto the ground from between her legs, and he heard Cerise sniffle. "The only thing that gave her hope through all of this was the thought of holding her baby. 'I didn't ask for it,' she told me, 'but why should this baby suffer for what those men did?' She was so looking forward to its birth…but he would not have any offspring tracing back to him."

"Which one was he?"

"The one you clobbered. He'll be dead by morning." A slight smirk appeared on her face then, but disappeared. "The other's…they'll want revenge, or to at least make sure she is dead. You must take her away from here." Her eyes were pleading now, and Erik pondered as to where he could take her. Antoinette…she had helped him many times before…surely she would take compassion on Alyce. But where to find her? The opera house was abandoned. Perhaps…yes…she would have gone with Christine…after all, she had been Christine's adoptive mother. Raoul wouldn't have been so heartless to not open his family's estate doors to her. Vicomte or no Vicomte…Alye needed her.

"I know a place. You must come as well. I can tell that this is not the life you want." To this, she shook her head.

"I chose it, Monsieur. I'll stay here. Perhaps I might point them in the opposite direction." The fire returned with a brave smile, and he could only nod as he wrapped his cape around Alyce, lifting her into his arms.

"I'll return for you. I promise." He waited until her eyes acknowledged the truth in his voice, and then he hurried away.

He did not have to go all the way to the DeChagney estate. Raoul's carriage was parked in front of the managers' house the next block over. Pushing aside any and all bitterness toward the fools, he carried Alyce to the front door. She stirred a bit when he rang the doorbell, but before he could comfort her, the door swung open, revealing Antoinette herself standing before them. She wore an expression of complete shock on her face. "Erik…"

"Forget me, Antoinette. Forget everything I did. Help her." His old friend's gaze dropped to the girl in his arms.

"Bring her inside. Quickly. You are lucky that the men are in a meeting." Erik moved past her into the house, and in one swift movement, she was in front of him again. "Upstairs." Erik followed her up to the winding grand staircase and to the end of a long corridor. Antoinette pushed the door open, revealing a small bedroom, unused in quite some time, it appeared. _At least the linens are clean,_ he noted as she pulled back the blanket. Erik laid Alyce down then, and as he straightened, he saw Antoinette glaring at him. He sighed.

"Antoinette, I know I owe you a thousand and one explanations, but there is something I must do first. I will return. Just take care of her. Please." The two friends stared each other down, but finally Antoinette sighed.

"Very well. Return quickly then." Erik barely nodded a response before he was on his way.

**Cerise stared at the **end of the alleyway where he had disappeared. She wondered about the mysterious man. Where had he gotten _his_ scars? From where had he come? He'd appeared out of nowhere, fighting those men as if he'd known Alyce for a very long time. But he hadn't even known her name, and Cerise would have most certainly remembered his face had he been a previous customer. Nevertheless, the look of pain and concern in his eyes was still forefront in her mind. Part of her had wanted to go with him, there was no doubt about that. He was so different from all the other men she knew, and it wasn't just his face. His eyes held the same look of longing that she felt deep down inside her. It had made her realize that she was not alone…that she didn't have to be in this business to feel…accepted…loved…not alone. Even now, she wanted to get up and run after him, wherever he had gone. But as she heard familiar voices approaching, she knew it was too late. She stood up anyway, brushing the tears from her eyes. She did not know what she'd be fighting for. She knew she would most likely lose. She had chosen this life, as she had told him. But now, she was choosing something different. Something better. She was choosing to escape.

** The alleyway was quiet.** Far too quiet.

_**A/N: Hehe aren't I mean? Next chapter coming soon! In the meantime, please send some feedback my way! I really appreciate it! **_


	2. Flames of Passion

_**A/N: Hehe ok I'm done with being mean. For now. *smirk* As always, I do not own POTO or any of its characters!**_

** In the distance, **Erik thought he saw the other two men pass under a streetlight before vanishing around the street corner. "Cerise?" He stepped into the alleyway, and as if in response, he could hear soft, breathless weeping. He followed the sound, and as she came into view, his already shattered heart sank. She'd been stripped to the waist, humiliated before being beaten and finally shot in the chest. He could tell from the broken crates around her that she had put up quite a fight, but it hadn't been enough. He collapsed beside her, wrapping his shirt around her before cradling her head in his arms.

"You…came back…"

"I told you I would. I want to take you out of here…to safety…"

"No…I won't make it. I'm…sorry your journey was for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing, Cerise. I won't let you leave here alone." Erik swallowed the lump in his throat, and began stroking her hair.

"I…told them…you went south…that you had taken…a boat…in the river…they…they tried to bring me back with them…but…I wouldn't go…I…I couldn't…"

"You did well, Cerise. You did well."

"Please…tell me your name…I want…to remember it…remember you…"

"Erik." His voice was barely above a whisper now.

"Erik…take care of Alyce…love her…that's all she…ever wanted…was to…to be loved…" A gasp followed her statement, and as her eyes closed, he knew they were never going to open again. The fire was gone forever. Her head grew limp in his arms, but he clutched her closer to himself, brushing his lips against hers.

"I promise, Cerise. I'll take care of her." He wanted to sob openly then…to let down all defenses and let the world know how much this girl had meant to him, if only for an hour or so. But once the promise was made, he knew he had to return. Finding a tattered sheer underneath some crates, he took back his now bloody shirt and covered her from head to toe. The police would eventually find her and take all the steps necessary for burial, something he knew nothing about. He would remember her name for as long as he lived, and perhaps he would find her grave and give her a proper good bye. For now, however, he was needed elsewhere.

Upon his return, he was able to walk right in through the front door and up the stairs. _It must be a very long meeting…_ Antoinette was waiting for him in Alyce's room, the glare still on her face. Despite her frustration with Erik's surprise visit, Alyce's dress had been replaced with a borrowed nightgown, and Antoinette was rubbing a cold damp cloth across her forehead. "I've sent for a doctor. I cannot hide you here, but in case you do wish to make yourself scarce, I suggest you tell me everything."

"I will stay. I cannot bear to share the details more than once." He lowered himself to a chair on the opposite side of the bed, gently taking the cloth from his friend's hand and continuing to stroke Alyce's forehead. The dirt had been cleaned off, and now the red slashes were all the more prominent. He'd know those familiar markings anywhere, and as he merely thought back to his childhood, his back stung from the memory of all those whippings. "How bad is it? Her stomach? The baby?" At his questions, she teared up slightly.

"Nothing but black and blue, Erik. I cannot say that there is much hope for the baby."

"Show me."

"Erik! It would be indecent!"

"Show me. I have to see." As he looked at her, he made sure that she could see the familiar honesty in his eyes. "You can trust me." With a heavy sigh, she made him turn around. Moments later, she gave the word, and as he looked, he saw that Antoinette had lifted the nightgown to the top of her stomach, the blanket still covering her from the waist down. His eyes widened; never before had he seen a larger bruise—it was indeed covering her entire stomach, and he could only wonder just how many times those men had kicked her. He turned away, and Antoinette quickly covered it up. Taking his hand in hers, she spoke softly…gently.

"You do not have to stay. Please…tell me what happened."

"No. I will not leave her. I promised."

"When the doctor comes to examine her, you will have to step out of the room. You may go to my room across the hall to avoid being seen by the men until you are ready."

"Very well."

**The doctor arrived** within the hour, and after Erik relayed what he knew, he was waved outside. As he entered Antoinette's room, he realized something…someone was missing. Surely at this hour, Christine and Meg would have turned in. There were only five rooms upstairs—two belonging to the managers, one being Raoul's. This one was Antoinette's…and then there was the spare. Where were Meg and Christine to sleep? Raoul could not have wed Christine already…

He stepped back out into the hallway, making sure of the number of rooms. "She's not here, Erik." He whirled around to face Antoinette standing behind him. "My daughter went with her to the DeChagney estate. I would have joined them as well, but as the ballet mistress, I was needed here in case they had a question about the ballet."

"She's…away from him?" The old Opera Ghost part of him began to plot, but Antoinette shattered any and all hope as soon as she saw the look in his eyes.

"They are there to plan the wedding, Erik. You must forget about her. She is moving on."

"She…could plan it here…" Antoinette lowered her gaze then.

"She couldn't bear to be anywhere near the Opera House, Erik. The first few days, she spoke to no one, not even him. I suggested she leave the city for a while."

"You…?" His voice threatened to shake the building, but he didn't care if the men heard him or not. The tension was broken by Alyce's door being opened, and the doctor motioned them both inside.

Erik blocked out the doctor's voice as he went over what he already knew. Bruises, a whip being the cause for the slashes and the scars being permanent… "The girl is seven months into her pregnancy," he went on, and Erik focused back on his words. "If she is to survive, I will need to deliver the baby within the next twenty-four hours."

"Will the baby survive?" Erik's demanding tone was met with grim faces, and he looked away, the cloth returning to his hand once more.

"Can you do it here?" Antoinette questioned.

"No…my office is across the city. We can take my carriage." As the doctor was explaining the arrangements, the door burst open to reveal Andre, Firmin, and Raoul, their faces red with anger, their eyes full of confusion. As soon as their eyes fell upon Erik, their eyes began to match their faces. Raoul spoke first. "You dare to come here? You really must hate your life to risk it so foolishly!"

"Monsieur!" Antoinette spoke up, her tone careful, yet sharp.

"Antoinette, I can speak for myself." He never turned his glare away from the young Vicomte, and as he stood, the managers at least took a step back. "I did not come here for Christine or anyone else except for the girl you see lying before you. If you wish to fight me again, you will wait until I see that she will survive. Until then, you may stay and help, or you can leave my sight." At his words, Monsieur Andre was the first to flee, Firmin close behind him. Raoul remained.

"We will fight. And I will win. Christine is not here to save you as she was in the graveyard. I look forward to shedding every drop of your blood so that you never haunt her dreams again." Before Antoinette could scold his insolence again, he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Erik…" she spoke with a sigh.

"You need not apologize for his words, Antoinette. By the time Alyce is better, we will be long gone. Not as a coward, mind you, but she will need me by her side. If Raoul claims to love Christine as he says he does, he will learn that she needs him with her more than she needs my death." He returned to his post at her side then, the conversation ended.

_**A/N: For the record, I hate depicting Raoul like this…so extremely coldhearted…then again, when you look at things from his perspective, he has a valid enough reason…going back to the swordfight in the graveyard up through now. You may have your opinions about Raoul, and that's fine. But I like how Patrick Wilson explained his character in one interview. I'm paraphrasing: "Back then, you died young, so when you saw what you wanted, you went after it(with that intensity)." His possessive way of caring about Christine is definitely not the norm today…in fact it's very much looked down upon, for good reason. But we must remember the time period and the culture then. Yes, Raoul has his faults, but so does Erik. The only other thing I'll say on the matter is this: Anyone who hates/bashes Raoul for his actions, to me, is no better than those back in Erik's day who hated/bashed him for **_**his**_** faults and actions. You may disagree with me, and that's fine. I'm not trying to offend or judge anyone. I'm just taking the time to share my own personal opinion, but I do apologize in advance if this comes across as offensive or judgmental. Please, tell me if it does, and I'll move it to my profile. **_

_** *ahem* Soap-box gone, feedback is more than welcome! Stay tuned…next chapter to come soon! **_


	3. Where is the Baby?

_**A/N: As promised, here's more…and as always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

** The carriage ride **to the doctor's house was a bumpy one, and it was all Erik could do to keep Alyce steady as he cradled her head in his lap. Antoinette sat opposite him, but she kept silent, knowing that it was up to him when or if he ever chose to reveal the deeper reason behind his sagging eyes. He stared ahead, but out the window, as if his mind and heart were elsewhere, despite his stubborn loyalty to the stranger he held. He hadn't let go of the cloth, as if with every gentle stroke he could erase some of the pain she was in. Antoinette had never seen him like this. But then, she had always been too afraid to enter into his lair…too afraid to get too close. She had seen what he was capable of, even at the young age of ten. She could have done more…she should have. She knew this when she saw him so desperately reaching out for someone…someone who did not share his feelings. But now was not the time for regret. She could change things, and it could start now. "Erik…"

"We're here." The doctor stopped the carriage. Erik glanced over at Antoinette, but the moment of opportunity had passed.

"You should get some rest…" She said instead.

"I will rest when Alyce is better." His words held so much passion, but his eyes seemed so empty. He lifted Alyce into his arms, and the doctor led them inside. He motioned to a room off to the side which contained a large table and several cabinets. As the doctor took out several instruments and various jars, Erik laid Alyce on the table. She moaned softly and stirred, and he brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Slowly, he turned to face the doctor. "How can I help?" The older man responded by dabbing a bit of liquid onto a fresh cloth.

"This is chloroform. Place it over her nose and mouth for just a few seconds. It will help her rest." Erik took the cloth and did as he was told, and almost immediately, her body relaxed. "Now, you must leave."

"I can't…"

"Erik, be reasonable. Let the doctor do his job." Antoinette touched his shoulder.

"Promise me she'll be okay. Promise me that I may see the baby…" Erik stared past Antoinette and into the doctor's eyes. The men studied each other for several moments before the gray-haired doctor nodded.

"If you wish to be of further help, Monsieur…there will be much blood lost. If you wish to give her some of yours when I am through, that will be of great—"

"Yes." Erik cut him off. "As much as she needs." The doctor nodded again, and Antoinette led Erik out of the room. Finding a sofa, he allowed his friend to sit him down upon the pale blue cushion.

"What is it, Erik? What is this hold that girl has on you?" He looked away from her then, and she touched his arm. "She is not Christine…"

"No!" His head whipped around, anger flashing in his eyes. "And neither was Cerise, but that didn't matter! They don't deserve…" Tears came then, and his voice shook. "They didn't deserve a worse punishment than I…they did nothing!"

"Tell me about Cerise."

"I already told you."

"You told me that when you went back, she was gone. But that's not true, is it?"

"No, Antoinette. She is gone." The sobs ended then, the distant look returning to his eyes though they still watered. "But I was there to…to see her off…"

"Oh, Erik…" Antoinette had never hugged him before, but as she did so now, it was as if he were her own child. He leaned into her then, letting it all out. "Erik, I'm so sorry…"

"Sorry doesn't bring her back or erase her pain…"

"I know, Erik. But it does tell you that I'm here for you…whenever you need."

"Thank you…" his voice was now full of exhaustion.

"Get some rest. I'll wake you as soon as anything happens."

"Promise?"

"Yes, Erik. I promise." To this, he slowly nodded, and as she stood, he lowered himself to the sofa, sleeping almost instantly.

**An hour later, **the doctor awoke Erik so that he could donate the blood. As he entered the room, he saw that a sheet had been pulled up over Alyce's torso, the edge under her arms. Her face was full of peace, but Erik knew that was only the drug. "The baby….you promised me…" Erik glared tiredly as he took the chair he was offered.

"In good time, Monsieur. First, the blood. That is most important." With a sigh, Erik stretched his arm out, allowing the doctor to work a needle into his vein. "Just relax now. Squeeze this rag every ten seconds or so." Another clean cloth, balled up, was pressed into Erik's hand, and he forced himself, for Alyce's sake, to do as he was told.

Finally, when Erik had given all he could, the doctor removed the needle and bandaged up his arm. Antoinette came in then, carrying a breakfast tray which she placed in front of him. "You must eat, Erik, and then we will tell you about the baby." Slowly, Erik ate all he had the patience for.

"Where is the baby?" At his question, the doctor stepped forward and placed a bundle into his arms. Already, Erik could tell that the body was lifeless, but he had to see…He lifted the blanket, revealing the baby's face. Tiny locks of brown curls covered her head, so prominent against her pale white skin. He had never seen anyone so small…so flawless in appearance…It wasn't fair…It simply wasn't fair. "There must be something…"

"No, Monsieur…it…is too late."

"No! She has to live!"

"Erik…" Antoinette reached for the tiny form, but Erik held the baby out of her reach.

"Why should this perfect baby die while the 'devil's child' is allowed to live? She's all Alyce has, Antoinette!"

"She'll have you…"

"She wanted the baby. She'll have the baby." Antoinette studied him, trying to understand why he was acting this way. As much as he had loved Christine, he had always been calm, his actions always under control. But then, that had always been from behind the mask of the Phantom, inside the opera house he had made his kingdom over more than twenty years. Now, the mask had been stripped away, and the opera house was across the city. Perhaps this was his way of grasping onto just a little bit of control…just enough to give himself purpose and a reason for living. "I just want to try…" He had moved his gaze toward the doctor, who sighed heavily.

"You may try what you wish, Monsieur. I cannot promise you anything except what I've already told you." Silently, Erik returned to his seat, bringing the baby close. With two knuckles, he moved his hand up and down the tiny chest rapidly, gently, but just firm enough to get results. Every once in a while, he would breathe into her before continuing the movements. After five minutes of this, the exasperated doctor left the room, Antoinette following.

"Unreasonable! The man is half insane…he'll be in there the rest of his life at this rate!"

"He's merely stubborn, Monsieur. I've known him for years. "

"How do you put up with it?"

"I let him be…" Antoinette sighed. "Perhaps that was my mistake…but some things are meant to be learned on your own. In the meantime, who is he harming?"

"Me, that's who!" The doctor rubbed his forehead. "I've a headache now…"

"Give him time. What can we do for the girl?"

"Wait. We've done all we can."

"Perhaps it is you who needs the rest now."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Wake me if I'm needed." The doctor made his way upstairs, and Antoinette returned to the sofa. _Yes…time is what Erik needs…_

_**A/N: More hopefully tomorrow or the day after! Keep the feedback coming! **_


	4. Regarding Alyce

_**A/N: I've got about two more chapters written, this one included, and this story is far from over. Here's hoping my imagination doesn't do to this one what it did to all my other unfinished ones! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters.**_

** She was putting the finishing **touches on lunch when she heard it. The silence around her was broken by an unmistakable cry, and it could only belong to a baby. _It couldn't be…_ She first checked the front door, then the back, but they were both empty of patients. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the doctor soon appeared, wide-eyed, in front of her. "What's going on?"

"What does it sound like?"

"I hear it, but I don't believe it! It's impossible!"

"Let's go and see!" Antoinette hurried down the hallway to Alyce's room, and once they reached the doorway, she stopped dead in her tracks. Erik had just placed the baby in her mother's arms, and already, she was searching for a bit of milk. He turned to face them, his eyes watering in the corners.

"She's hungry…" his voice was just above a whisper, and his eyes pleaded as if to say, "She's alive now. Don't make her go back yet."

"Antoinette, I could use your help in the kitchen." The doctor didn't take his eyes off of the infant as he left the room. Antoinette quickly followed, and between the two of them, a batch of formula was quickly made up and put into a bottle. Upon Antoinette's return to the room, she handed the bottle to Erik. He looked at it, confused.

"Take it, Erik. It's for the baby." He slowly took it, fiddling with the long tube. At one point, he held the end of it above his head to study it in the light, and a bit dripped into his eye. Jumping and holding back the urge to yell in pain, he glared at the tube and then at Antoinette. Fighting back a giggle, she took the bottle. "Like this, Erik…" She picked up the baby and gently placed the tube into the tiny mouth. Immediately, the baby began drinking, and Antoinette placed her in Erik's arms. The glare immediately disappeared, a smile appearing instead. Quietly, the doctor and Antoinette left the room once again.

**The baby had long since fallen** asleep and Erik was in the middle of singing softly when arms reached over to take the sleeping infant. Protectively, Erik pulled the baby away before looking over in the direction from which the arms had appeared. Alyce was sitting up, her face utterly confused and afraid. "My baby…" she whispered. Startled, Erik slowly handed over the little girl, who stirred slightly until she was in her mother's arms. "She's alive…"

"Yes…" At his tired voice, she looked up at him.

"Who are you? Where am I? Where's Cerise?" More panic entered her eyes.

"My name is Erik…you are safe now. Cerise…" his voice grew shaky then, and he looked down. "Cerise made sure you would be safe…she…"

"She died, didn't she?" He turned to face her then. "They killed her…"

"I'm sorry…I tried to save her…but she wouldn't come…I tried…" As he wept, she reached over and took his hand in hers.

"Thank you, Erik." She gave a small, sad smile. "Thank you for trying."

**By the time** Antoinette came to check on Erik an hour later, Alyce had decided to name the baby Cerise Rose. Brief introductions were made, and then Antoinette pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table. "Now, my dear, where was it you lived before?" Despite her previous frustration and the lack of sleep, her voice was calm and soothing.

"I was living with my aunt just outside the city…my parents died when I was four…my aunt died almost a year ago, leaving behind a large debt…" She looked down, and Erik wondered if her matter-of-fact tone was a sort of mask to cover her real emotions, as if she didn't quite trust the two of them just yet. "I was brought to that…place of business by my aunt's landlord…to pay off her debt…he also owns that building…the baby is his…"

"No." Erik touched her shoulder. "He is not, and never will be, a father to Cerise Rose. He is dead after counting you and your baby as such. You need not worry about him anymore."

"How old are you, my dear?" Antoinette broke in.

"Twenty-one…I know I'm small…"

"That is hardly a flaw, Alyce." Erik spoke up, and as Alyce looked at him, it was as if she were seeing his scars for the first time. Slowly, she reached over to touch, but he turned his face away.

"I'm sorry…" her voice was quiet, and Erik felt his heart crack a bit more.

"Don't be. You do not need to apologize. Only get better." He stood then, and without looking at either of them, he walked out of the room.

"What did I do?" Alyce looked to Antoinette with pleading eyes.

"Nothing, my dear. Erik…has had a rough life….he's been hurt so many times. He won't admit it, but he's rather sensitive." Offering a small smile and a gentle hand squeeze, she continued. "Pay him no mind for now. He is right, however. You just need to rest."

"Thank you…for everything…" Alyce returned the smile, and as Antoinette nodded, the younger woman surrendered to sleep.

**Erik paced the living room floor**, his heart arguing with his mind. "Love her…" Cerise had whispered with her last breath. _But you didn't know about Christine! You didn't know that I can't love Alyce!_ He wanted to yell at the memory. _I told you I'd take care of her, and I am!_

"Why can't you be satisfied with that?"

"Satisfied with what, Erik?" He whirled around to see Antoinette standing in the doorway, her arms crossed.

"I wasn't talking to you." He growled.

"Well that's obvious. Erik, why are you acting like this? One moment you're protecting her with your life, daring anyone to try to take her from you, the next moment you're walking away. Why?"

"You wouldn't understand." He turned away.

"You're right. I don't. I never did." He turned back around, but she had disappeared into the kitchen.

**When Alyce awoke **the next morning, Erik was once again sitting beside her bed. He looked as though he had been awake all night, deep red circles underneath his eyes. Cerise Rose stirred in her arms but continued to sleep, and both pairs of eyes lifted their gaze from her to meet each other. "Erik…what I said yesterday…I do apologize for upsetting you…"

"You don't owe me an apology, Alyce. I told you that." His voice was soft. Slow. Tired.

"You did. Even so…I do owe you something. You saved my life and the life of my child."

"No…you owe me nothing."

"But…you owe nothing to me, Erik. We are complete strangers. Strangers don't…go around saving each other without expecting something in return…Why would you?" Her eyes searched his until he lowered his gaze to the sleeping baby once more.

"I gave Cerise my word that I would take care of you. Plain and simple."

"You didn't know her either…did you?"

"Not before that night. But I knew enough…I knew just how much she cared for you. She…she died for you…how could I let her slip away thinking that you would be left alone?" His voice cracked, but no tears were left to fall. Instead, they came to her eyes as she slowly nodded.

"She did care…I couldn't believe how much she did…the rest of the girls would have torn me to shreds had she not been there to protect me…like…like my own mother had been…" As the built up grief spilled over her face and shook her body, Erik wrapped one arm around her and took Cerise Rose into the other. He began singing 'Masquerade', the same tune that had soothed him from the music box he'd left behind. Finally, she lifted her head, and after wiping her tears away, she continued as if nothing had happened. "Still, Erik…you could have made your promise…said what she wanted to hear…and then just gone on with your life. But you stayed…I…I just don't understand why…"

"I do not go back on my word, Alyce. Besides…there is nothing in my life that I can go back to."

"So…we share the same predicament then…both in hiding, staring at the same blank sheet that is our future…wondering, 'Where do I go from here?'"

"Yes…precisely…" His eyes filled with awe and relief as he took her hand in his.

"What are you running from? What did you leave behind?" At her questions, he stiffened, but her eyes and voice were filled with such tenderness that he found himself telling her everything…the gypsies, Antoinette helping him, growing up in the cellars of the opera house…even Christine. He was unsure just how much she was able to understand, however, for by the time he got to Christine's departure, all the tears he'd thought he'd already cried came pouring out. Now it was Alyce's turn to take Cerise Rose, and by now the baby was so tired of being passed around that she finally awoke with a loud wail. Alyce busied herself with feeding her child, but her mind never left the sobbing man before her.

_**A/N: I hate to leave this chapter with that bucket of tears, but I can't have my chapters too long. A few things I should note: 1. The description of the bottle is probably very different from what you were expecting. Back in that time period, instead of the top we're used to, baby bottles were just glass bottles with a long, straw-like tube in it. Think of a crazy straw, but not shaped and much more flexible. 2. This chapter contained probably the hugest example of me straying from the actual dream I had. In the dream, it was me in Alyce's shoes, having fallen back in time somehow. I didn't want that to be confused with 'In Dreams I Went', so I changed it. Coming up in a couple chapters is the end to my actual dream and the beginning of me actually trying to write it as all my other stories. 3. You may have noticed me switching between calling what Alyce is sleeping on a table and a bed. Yet another detail my dream seemed to skip over, as did I until I was typing up this chapter. There are two possibilities. Either Alyce was moved to a different room that first day she awakened, or the doctor had made up the table as a makeshift bed shortly after Alyce arrived. Take your pick as to which one of those you prefer, or if you think of something else, please let me know. Anyway, I'll try to post more tomorrow, so stay tuned and please review! **_


	5. New Plans and Old Friends

_**A/N: Last fully-written chapter so far! Will try to work on it before I go back to school….I make no promises but I will definitely try extra hard not to leave this one to gather dust! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters.**_

** Two days later, **Antoinette announced that she would soon be leaving for the DeChagney estate. "It appears that the managers and their patron do not need any further input from me," she explained, and Erik silently noted how she'd chosen to leave out the Vicomte's name. "I must see my daughter and how the plans are going."

"Take Alyce with you." Erik spoke up. The two of them were in the hallway outside Alyce's room while the doctor examined mother and child.

"Oh, Erik, I don't know…she hasn't fully recovered, and the estate is sure to be busy and confusing…"

"Then wait one more week. I have given this much thought, Antoinette. She is to be your assistant. The estate staff could help with the baby, and when the Opera House is rebuilt, there will be those there who could help…"

"I do not need an assistant, Erik. I'm fully capable—"

"Antoinette. You have been a mother and a teacher to hundreds of girls over the years, as well as an assistant to me. I've seen you go to bed late only to wake up before dawn the next morning, and hardly any of those nights went uninterrupted by a girl having a nightmare. You've taken on far too much work, and I know I have not helped in that regard. Let Alyce help you. Please."

"I will think about it, Erik…but I have many doubts about the opera house being the best place for her and for Cerise Rose. Perhaps she might rather work in the estate…it would be far better suited to meet her needs and those of the child." Erik's mind clouded with dark thoughts toward the idea of Alyce working for the insolent boy, but he could not help thinking that she may be right.

"Perhaps we will give her the choice. At least take her with you now. Let her help with the plans and see what the estate is like."

"I suppose you will want to come too?" Antoinette eyed him carefully, and he nodded.

"I will make sure that she only receives the best for herself and her child."

**Upon his return** to Alyce's room, he was shocked to find her out of bed, reaching for a mirror. "No!" He crossed the room and grasped her hands. "You should not be up, Alyce…" He began walking her back to the bed, but she struggled.

"I must see…I feel something on my face…"

"No, Alyce…there is something there, but…I cannot let you see…"

"Is it that awful?" Her eyes widened.

"No…but once you see….it will become that awful. It will be all you think about…all you see whenever you look at your reflection…it will consume you, Alyce, just as I was consumed. I don't want you to think of yourself as I think of myself. I want you to remember how beautiful you were and still are, despite those marks…"

"Erik, what marks? Please…tell me…" Her eyes searched his, and he brought a hand up to caress her scars.

"You were whipped in the face, Alyce. The marks….are never going to go away."

"Let me see." Her eyes held a bit of Cerise's fire in them, and he sighed.

"Get back in bed, Alyce. I'll bring the mirror over if you're so insistent." She nodded her agreement, and Erik helped her back into bed. Once she was tucked in, he handed over the mirror, bracing himself for the tears…the screams…the shattering glass…but it never came. He watched her touch the scars, tracing each line.

"They…they will fade…"

"In time, yes…but they won't disappear." Tears threatened to fall from his eyes for her, and as she saw then, she set the mirror aside, taking his hand in hers.

"Erik, I'm alive. I have a beautiful daughter, new friends in you and Antoinette…what are a few scratches in return?" Her words sent him over the edge, and once again she was comforting him as he wept.

**A week later, **they all piled into the doctor's carriage once again. Although the estate was less than half a day's ride away, the elderly doctor insisted on frequent stops to check on his patients' conditions. Finally, Erik turned to him. "Perhaps you would feel better if I took the reins while you sit back here? At this rate, we'll be on the road until morning!"

"Do you know the way?" The doctor raised an eyebrow, and Erik scowled.

"I could direct you, Erik…" Antoinette spoke up, and the scowl turned into a smirk.

"Very well…" The doctor sighed and got into the carriage. Erik climbed up into the driver's seat, as he had done when he brought Christine to the graveyard. Then, it had been a journey to say good bye. Now, he was not sure what was in store. He could only hope that his presence there would not harm or frighten his former pupil.

**Upon their arrival** that evening, Erik insisted that Antoinette go in alone first, to explain and prepare the future Countess for the additional guests. She was told that both Meg and Christine were in the sitting room, and as she entered, Meg was the first to spring to her feet. "Mama!" The blond ballerina flung her arms around her mother, causing Antoinette's anxieties to melt for only a moment.

"How are you, my daughter?"

"I'm well, Mama, but I've missed you so!"

"Well I'm here now, Meg. I missed you as well." Her eyes then fell on Christine. A small, polite smile was on her face, but her eyes still showed so much uneasiness. Her long dark curls that had once sat freely on the soprano's shoulders were now pulled back in a bun, and her dress was a dark blue, almost as if she were mourning instead of planning her wedding.

"Madame Giry…"

"Please, my dear. Call me Antoinette. In just a few months, you will be a Countess, not my pupil…" At her words, Christine shortened the distance between them and hugged her.

"Have you seen him, Antoinette? Is he well?"

"The Vicomte?"

"No…my Angel…"

"Oh, my dear…" Antoinette sighed, and the two women sat down on the nearby couch. "I have seen him, and he is well. But you can no longer think of him as your angel. He is a man, and he always has been as such."

"He still helped me, Antoinette. He helped me and I betrayed him!" Tears splashed onto her cheeks, and Antoinette held her close.

"What's done is done, my dear. Mistakes were made by the both of you. It doesn't help either of you to dwell on what could have been, should have been, or would have been. You both have a second chance…to make things right. Even if you two see each other again, you both must remember that that door is closed and locked, and you two are meant to move on to your new, separate futures."

"I do want to see him, Antoinette…I hurt him so…"

"He's here, Christine. He came with someone he found and rescued back in the city. She has a baby with her. It is a long story, but he was insistent that they come with me. Would that be alright? Perhaps she could stay here and work…"

"Yes, perhaps…" Christine sniffled and wiped at her tears. "I would very much like to see them all immediately."

"I must warn you, my dear, that he is not himself. He's become very unpredictable." Christine slowly nodded, and Antoinette stood and went to fetch the others. Erik was the first one to approach her. "Erik, be gentle. She is heartbroken by her actions and very fragile. No more lies, no more deceit. Please. Promise me." The two studied each other; one pleading, one inwardly debating. Erik's thoughts were within the mansion, on the girl who had lifted him up from the shadows. _This is my chance…_ "This is your chance, Erik, to make things right. You cannot love her in the way that you did, but you can at least try to be friends…"

"Friends…" Erik inwardly scoffed at the word, fingering the ring that had never once left his pocket. "I have no friends."

"You have me, Erik…"

"Yes, and look what I did to you! I made you work all the harder and keep so many secrets from everyone, including your own daughter!"

"That is all in the past, Erik. You can decide to either continue in that way or change how you treat others. It's all up to you."

"I will try, Antoinette. That's all I can promise."

"Very well. Your former pupil is waiting." Antoinette motioned toward the door. "We'll be right behind you." At that, Erik slowly made his way to the mansion, fighting back any nerves or past emotions. It would be just himself, unmasked, no Phantom, Opera Ghost, or Angel. Only the Devil's Child, now grown up but still afraid. Just Erik.

He did not have to knock. The door swung open, revealing Christine herself, as if she'd been watching for him. "Christine…you look as beautiful as ever…"

"Hello…I…I'm afraid I don't know what to call you anymore…"

"Erik…just Erik…"

"Erik…please…come in…" She moved aside, and as he stepped inside, his eyes never left her. She did not speak until she had led him to the sitting room.

"Do you want me to stay, Christine?" Meg questioned.

"No…" Christine started.

"Actually, Marguerite, I think it would be best if you did." He ignored the dancer's shock at the fact that he knew her full name and lowered himself to the sofa. Christine chose the cushion next to him, leaving about two feet of space between them.

"It's so good to see you, Erik. I…I was afraid that…because of my actions…you…might have…"

"Oh, Christine…I had thought of it, but…but I was afraid to…that the things I've only had nightmares about would be there waiting for me at the other side…"

"I'm so sorry, Erik…truly…not just out of pity…"

"I know. But I am more sorry for my actions. I should not have pretended to be the very person you were grieving for. And…I should not have taken this. It was meant for you, from him." He slowly took her hand and placed the ring into her open palm. "It's yours, Christine. It always was. Just…not from me." He watched as she fingered the ring, studying it through tear-filled eyes, and it was all he could do to keep from pulling her into his arms and hugging away her tears.

"Erik…do you know why I gave this back to you?"

"You…were rejecting me…"

"No….I…I wanted you to have it…so that you could give it to the right woman. You did so much for me…you meant the world to me for so long…but we aren't meant for each other. There will be someone else, and when she comes, I want you to be ready."

"Christine…I don't know if I can love anyone else…"

"When the right woman comes, Erik…you'll be able to…you'll end up loving her far more than you could ever love me, and you'll find that she loves you more than I ever could. Please. Take this. Give it to her." Before he knew what was happening, the ring was once again in his hand. Memories of that night flashed in front of his eyes, and he put his hands in front of them, balled into fists, trying to block out the pain.

"Don't leave me…" He whispered, and he felt arms wrapping around him. They weren't Christine's. A hand touched his forehead, and he shivered.

"He's burning up…" Meg's voice…_ How did she cross the room so quickly?_

"There's a doctor outside…I'll have the butler bring him upstairs…" Christine's voice shook as she rushed out of the room. _Don't leave…_

_**A/N: Again, I will really really really really try to keep the delay between this chapter and the next as short as possible! Thank you for understanding! Reviews are always, ALWAYS helpful to me! Stay tuned! **_


	6. We Meet Again

_**A/N: Okay…about half of this chapter is already handwritten. The rest and beyond will be typed. Fingers crossed that I can continue this! Again, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters.**_

** Cold water dripped** down his forehead and onto his eyelids as a cloth was moved across his face. "Christine…" What he'd thought he spoke really came out as a slight whisper, unheard but seen in the movement of his lips. "Your hands are cold…" He slowly attempted to open his eyes. His head ached and spun, but he had to see…

The blurry figure sitting beside him soon came into focus not as Christine, but Alyce. She smiled carefully…apologetically. "It seems we've switched places…"

"Christine…"

"Don't try to speak, Erik… just rest…you're safe…" _No one will find you, your fears are far behind you…_

_He was back on the rooftop, back behind the statue. Christine and Raoul were locked in each other's arms, their eyes only on each other. He crushed the rose in his hand, and as the petals fell, the winter breeze carried them away with a sound of distant, infant-like laughter. He looked down at the snow, and instead of seeing the bare stem of thorns, there was the ring, spinning on its side. As he grasped it, he looked toward the couple once more. He saw her love for him…his love for her…his protective arms around her. _I gave you my music…made your song take wing…and now, look at your future…with him, not with your tutor…he is bound to love you, whether or not you sing…Christine…_ "Help me say good bye…" He moved to lower his head, but something held it in place. The infant laughter returned, and the rose petals were now floating between the couple and himself. As he watched, they formed themselves into the shape of a face. _Cerise…

_ "Love her, Erik…that's all she wanted…"_

_ "I can't! Please…you don't understand…"_

_ "Try, Erik…love her…that's all I ask of you…" The winter breeze blew harder now, in the direction of his face. The infant laughter was gone, and as the rose petals rushed at him, he fell to the snow. "I believe in you…" her voice whispered, but it was almost unheard above his fitful sobs._

"Erik…Erik…" A hand was on his shoulder, gently shaking him. Her voice was soft, but filled with fearful urgency. "Erik…wake up…you're having a nightmare…" Slowly, he opened his eyes, and he saw the reason for her fear. When he had clutched at what he'd thought was snow, he had really grasped her dress at the shoulders, and the material was threatening to tear. He quickly released her, his hands dropping onto the sweat-drenched blanket. "I brought you some chamomile tea…do you think you can drink it?" As he nodded, the pain in his head seemed to press against the back of his eyes, and he let out an involuntary moan. She carefully helped him sit up before pressing the cup to his lips. He took a few sips before turning his face away.

"How long have I…?"

"Two days…the doctor said it was probably a mixture of lack of sleep and too much stress. You still have a temperature, but it's not as bad." As Erik surveyed the room, he could not help but notice the extravagance of his surroundings, and he knew he could only be in the estate still.

"Christine…she…she didn't send me away…" He looked back at Alyce, but she lowered her gaze. What was it he'd just seen flash in her eyes? Disappointment?

"She's…very generous, Erik. She refused to allow the doctor to bring you back to the city, insisting that he bring you to one of the better of the guest suites. Even when she was told of the Vicomte's imminent arrival, she insisted."

"He's…coming here? Soon?" He forced himself to sit up further, glancing between the door and the window beside him. "How soon?"

"The end of the week, I suppose…" He tensed up even further beneath her fingers, and she pressed her hand even firmer onto his shoulder. "Erik? You…you won't be leaving, will you? You're not recovered…" He met her gaze then, and as he saw the concern in her face, he slowly softened.

"I won't leave, Alyce. I promise…not until I see that your future is settled and you and Cerise Rose are well cared for."

"That's another thing, Erik…Christine has offered me a position here…as her personal maid and companion. Everything is all set…I'll have a private suite…Cerise Rose will be taken care of during the day…and…when she is old enough, they're hoping the Opera House will be back in operation for her to join the ballet. You don't have to worry about us any longer." She offered a small smile, but he could only offer shock in response. He wasn't sure what he felt, but it was far from relief. It seemed so perfect…but was it too perfect? Alyce…under the same roof as his former pupil and still his one and only love…Alyce, under the watchful eye of the ignorant, insolent youth of a Vicomte, who had once referred to him as a _thing_…. Could he really leave Alyce here, where the Vicomte could throw such insults and humiliation at her? _No…I have to stay…_

"Even so, Alyce…" He allowed himself to relax against the pillows once more. "I just want to make sure you can really be happy here. I will stay until I see that happen. I only have your best interest at heart."

"I know, Erik…and I thank you for your kindness." With a smile, she handed him the cup of tea, which he now drank with purpose.

**The Vicomte arrived** on schedule, and there was such a fuss among the staff and family, one would think he were a king arriving to his castle. Erik was soon forgotten by everyone except Alyce, and even she seemed a bit distracted and nervous. "Alyce…" he gently took her hand, "he is only a man. You have nothing to worry about."

"Then why do I see fear in your eyes?" She challenged, and he quickly looked away.

"All you need to know, Alyce, is I do not fear what he could do to me. My concern…lies elsewhere." He could not let her see how vulnerable he thought her to be. If she was to start a whole new life, she needed every bit of confidence he could give her. "Christine has much influence over him. The qualities she sees in you, he will see soon enough." Before she could respond, Antoinette appeared in the doorway.

"Alyce, the Vicomte deChagney would like to see you in the sitting room for a final interview." Erik could tell that she was trying so hard to not make eye contact with him as she motioned the younger woman over. Alyce gave one more glance toward Erik, and he gave her an encouraging smile and nod. Slowly, Alyce followed Anotinette downstairs, and once both sets of footsteps disappeared, Erik quietly made his way after them. There was no way he would allow Alyce to face Raoul without himself present, yet hidden.

**As Raoul took** another sip of his tea, he looked Alyce over carefully. Yes, she was the same girl he had seen in the bed back in Andre and Firmin's household. Alive and well, that was very clear. The baby she'd been carrying was now being entertained by the family nurse, and he could tell that the little girl would be kept out of the way. If things went according to plan, he would soon have babies of his own. It would be good to get used to the sight. Placing the tea cup on the coffee table before him, he leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs. "You say your name is Alyce?"

"That is correct."

"Orphaned and pressed into services…my fiancé has told me that much. A disgusting business…I am glad you escaped that lifestyle."

"Barely…thanks to Erik…" At her words, he cocked his head, and as anger flashed in his eyes, she took a slight step back, wondering if she'd said too much.

"Erik…the man who…brought you to Antoinette?" She slowly nodded, her nervousness returning. "I see. Tell me, what do you know of this Erik? What is your relationship to him?"

"Relationship? I wouldn't say we have any sort of relationship aside from him rescuing me…perhaps a friendship, but nothing more."

"And has he told you much about himself? His past?"

"He did, yes. He spoke of the murders…the fire…Christine…"

"And what exactly did he say of her?"

"That…that he trained her voice…that he deceived her….and…and how she broke his heart…"

"Does he still love her?" He was leaning forward now, his legs slowly uncrossing, as if at any moment he would leap forward at her.

"I…I don't know…"

"Where is he?" Obviously, Christine and Antoinette had left out that detail, and now it was resting on Alyce's shoulders.

"He…he was the one to bring me here, Monsieur…he…he fell ill suddenly…and…"

"Where is he?" His voice was slow. Careful. But his eyes…she wanted to look away, but she couldn't move at all.

"Upstairs…" The single word was whispered, and just as she'd predicted, he rose to his feet and crossed the room in one swift movement. But he moved past her, to the doorway. Before he could go upstairs, Erik appeared just outside the room, right in front of him, causing him to jump back.

"So, you would attack a guest who had fallen ill, Monsieur? Remind me to never pay you a visit in the future." Despite the pain in his head, he buried it away, the old OG part of him taking over, and he held an even smirk on his face.

"You are no guest of mine. Get out."

"Before the wedding? I wouldn't dream of it. As I am the only father-figure your fiancé has, I plan on walking her down the aisle."

"You'll not go near her!"

"I already have. We have forgiven each other, Monsieur. You need not worry."

"Forgiveness? You think a word of forgiveness will pay for all you have done?"

"It was enough for Christine."

"Not for me. Now you will either leave on your own will, or you will leave in a doctor's carriage, knowing full well that we have fought, and I have won. Again."

"Oh, that would be interesting. A feverish invalid fighting a travel-tired youth. We shall see who falls asleep first. "

"You act as though this is all just a game to you! I will show you that fighting for Christine is no laughing matter."

"I'm not fighting for Christine. I am fighting only because you are set on revenge. Although, I don't see why. You got what you wanted. You won. Are you not happy with that?"

"I will be happy when I see you put where you belong-six feet under. And I don't mean the Opera House cellars."

"Come now…" Erik chuckled, "My cellars were much deeper than that. And if you think that I fear death after the life I've lived…"

"Well then…if you don't fear death, you should be an easy target." Raoul met his smirk, but not for long. Erik stepped closer, his own smirk growing.

"Not a chance."

**A/N: Coming up: a swordfight when I know nothing about them as far as terms and techniques. In Erik's words, this will be interesting. Keep the feedback coming! Stay tuned! **


	7. Flash of Steel

_**A/N: 100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 thanks to TheTamster for helping me construct this chapter! Could not have done it without her! And a million thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! It means so much to me! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters.**_

** Erik allowed** the Vicomte to lead him to another room, where several racks of swords were kept. "Choose your weapon…" Raoul had already selected his, and Erik recognized it from their initial sword fight. He soon had his own choice in mind, and the two made their way out the back door into the garden. Those who had been present when the challenge was made now stood at the windows, several saying quick prayers that no one would get hurt too badly. It was all they could do; both men had such a determination in their eyes that any word of protest would have fallen on deaf ears. Alyce glanced over at Antoinette, hoping for some sign of hope, but the ballet mistress's face was grim. Fighting back tears, she turned her attention back to her rescuer and his opponent, whispering a third and fourth prayer.

As Erik stepped out into the late March air, part of him immediately longed for the warmth of his cape. However, the sun was still very high in the sky, causing the remaining snow under his feet to melt into a soft, wet slush. His trick of silent footsteps would be impossible. He glanced toward the mansion where several eyes were now staring. He had an audience once again…and two pairs of those eyes meant so much to him that all the others seemed to disappear. _No turning back now…this game is at its end._

The two men faced each other over the snow-covered ground, swords at the ready and each waiting for the other to make the first move. Taking the Phantom's reluctance to strike the first blow for weakness; Raoul charged in with a slashing blow that was meant to open up his opponent from shoulder to waist. Erik saw the younger man practically scream what he was going to do and side-stepped, letting the youth skid to a messy stop in the wet snow.

The Phantom whirled around and instead of waiting for the younger man to recover, kicked the back of his knees to send him sprawling on the ground. Raoul kept a tight grip on his sword as he spit out a mouthful of slush and dirt. The Vicomte attempted to get to his knees only to find himself to be sent to the ground again by another well-aimed kick to his backside. This time he stayed down and waited for the Phantom to get closer to gloat.

Erik approached the prostrate youth cautiously, years of experience having taught him to never underestimate his opponent. "Get up," he growled carefully watching Raoul's sword arm.

Raoul saw his opening and twisting his body suddenly, swept the Phantom's legs out from under him. Erik landed on his backside and almost had his sword jarred loose; his body was still aching from the lingering sickness and now the cold was seeping into him as well. He scowled at the Vicomte and thrust his sword at the man's legs.

The younger man back-peddled as soon as he saw the scowling countenance of the unmasked Phantom and instead of his leg being slashed open, only had his pant leg ripped open. Raoul swallowed hard, a bare-faced Phantom was difficult to look at and an angry one even more so. Breathing heavily, he stood up and approached his still seated foe.

The Phantom knew he had to buy time so he could get up again as well, so he grabbed a handful of slush and threw it in the Vicomte's face. Raoul staggered backward, as the stinging ice struck him full in his handsome face. He shook his head and quickly wiped the slush from his eyes. When he looked up again, the Phantom was already on his feet.

Erik closed the short distance between them and they crossed swords finally. The steel of each man rang out from the blows, neither man asked for or granted the other quarter. Swords flashed and soon each was bleeding from several superficial wounds.

Growing tired, the Phantom knew he had to end this quickly if he was to come out on top. Their swords came together again and he slammed his left shoulder into Raoul's sword arm as he twisted his blade upwards with his own sword. Raoul's hand opened up from the blow and his sword fell to the ground. Erik used his larger size to his advantage and both men fell.

Raoul lay gasping in the snow as Erik rolled off of him. The youth reached for his sword only to feel the sting of cold steel as the Phantom slapped his arm with the flat of his own sword. The Vicomte grimaced and tried not to cry out as his hand spasmed in burning pain. He flailed out blindly with his left hand and boxed the Phantom's ear, causing him to fall backward as he saw stars.

The younger man rolled to his knees and holding his right arm close to his body lunged at the prostrate Phantom. Erik's eyes snapped open as he felt the Vicomte's forearm press against his windpipe. His left hand shot up and he cuffed Raoul's ear before landing a glancing blow across the younger man's cheek with the basket of his sword.

Erik pounced on Raoul and they rolled upon the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. The Phantom's strength was waning and he could feel the sickness returning as he began to sweat. He drove his knee into the Vicomte's soft belly and was rewarded when he heard the man's breath rush out of him as he fell backward into the snow.

Breathing heavily through his mouth, Erik got to his knees and grabbed his sword from where it lay in the snow. He saw the other man start to struggle to sit up while he tried to regain his breath. The Phantom lunged forward and slammed his fist down on the younger man's chest, effectively knocking the breath out of him again. He straddled the Vicomte, pinning the man's arms to the ground with his shins.

Chest heaving, he held his sword over Raoul's heart with both hands that he kept from shaking only by force of his iron will. Raoul's eyes grew wide and his breath noticeably hitched as he believed himself mere moments from death at the hands of his hated enemy. Erik leaned forward, glaring at the man who would have killed him at first opportunity and growled, "You needed Christine to stop you from killing me. I'm stopping myself. This war between us is over."

Then the Phantom stood and turning his back on the defeated Vicomte, walked back to the conservatory door. He dropped his sword to the floor with a clatter as he entered the silent room. Two more steps and he collapsed, exhausted. A flood of urgent voices rushed at his ears, the footsteps no quieter nor fewer in number. "Get him back upstairs! He'll catch his death of cold from that draft!"

"Bandages! Someone, fetch some bandages! And some clean hot water!"

"You men, grab his feet! You two, take up the shoulders!"

"Raoul…don't forget Raoul!" Of all the voices that Erik heard before losing consciousness, Christine's proved to be the most urgent and the one that stuck to his mind long past the moment when he allowed the sleep to overtake him once again.

_**A/N: More soon! Please feel free to review! Stay tuned! **___


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